


Sweet, Sweet Devotion

by VindictiveStorm



Series: ACOP2019 - Happy Ver. [5]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, F/F, Feeding Time is Intimate, Fish Insults, I hate that I love You - Relationship Dynamic, Kidnapper and Prisoner Dynamic, Mermaid Alex Danvers, Slight Suggestion that Luthor Coven is Full of Memes, Vampire Lena Luthor, We Tried to Rescue Each Other Opps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VindictiveStorm/pseuds/VindictiveStorm
Summary: Her old cursed name had opened many doors, even in fair, bright National City. It made things like Tailborn’s Tears, Invisible Werewolf’s Hearts … all accessible, and easily so. But perhaps most criminal, was her access to Seaborn’s Blood. ... Her first taste had left her addicted. Like some common savage, she licked her lips with her tongue, dying them red - and poor Alex would have been a goner, had she not returned the aggression, biting Lena with all her might, and nearly taking off her pinky finger.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Lena Luthor
Series: ACOP2019 - Happy Ver. [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541182
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	Sweet, Sweet Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe some people decided to send me 4-6 posts when they could have just sent 'OK BOOMER' - which I deadass would have immediately approved rather than trash.
> 
> Could I have said it in a nice manner that Cinderella would approve of? Sure. But I'm not a Saint. And you sure as hell aren't either. 
> 
> This is Happy Ver. as advertised. And Unbeta'd as usual. For fun, because why otherwise?
> 
> Sponsored By: I'm not even sure? I can't stop laughing, but I'm definitely still angry. Bewildered, mayhaps.

Lena was working when suddenly her screen flickers. Where the hell is her charger? She thinks, eyebrows knit together in severe irritation. When she rights herself, her screen is a deep magenta color, blinding her. It’s a special kind of hell on her eyes, but thankfully only for a few seconds. When she can see once again, fragile little white letters are typed out, starting from the top left. Every line that comes forth makes her cold undead heart drop just a bit deeper into the pits of her stomach - but there’s nothing and no one that’ll save her - turn her head away from the alluring mystery unfolding before her. 

_Good day Lena Luthor._

  
_It has come to our attention that you are in possession of something that belongs to us._

  
_And we do use possess in the lightest of terms, as we do hope to maintain some level of civility, despite what you have already cost us in these trying years._

  
_We aren’t opposed to a partnership_

  
_But should you reject this generous offer, the least you can do is return what you’ve wrongfully stolen._

_Y / N_

Her fingers tremble over her keyboard as she desperately tries to piece together what exactly it was she is being accused of. 

* * *

As a public figure, the fact that she was a Vampire - and in need of blood as sustenance - was not something usually held against her person, nor weaponized like this. It was the most silliest of possible accusations to make in National City, against any vampire, when Cat Grant singlehandedly strong armed organizations to make accommodations, to mediate, to provide, and as a result: prevent any particular accidents in regards to vampire feeding - stealing blood was literally nonexistent among her kind in National City.

But, unlike the rest of the vampires who called National City home, she’s got access to far more blood than anyone else. Her old cursed name had opened many doors, even in fair, bright National City. It made things like Tailborn’s Tears, Invisible Werewolf’s Hearts … all accessible, and easily so. But perhaps most criminal, was her access to Seaborn’s Blood. 

Or in human-speak, Mermaid’s Blood. 

Humans have always held wild rumors of the supernatural - all of them somehow speaking of their eternal lifespans, their immortality … it was rather obvious what secrets they desired most from their otherworldly neighbors. But among them all, the humans were always a touch too fascinated, too friendly, too close to the Seaborns - since word had spread that their blood could bestow years to mortal men and women. It was a relationship abused, exploited, and finally reaped without any opposition, nor moderation. 

It was how she and Alexandra met. When Lillian Luthor had stepped into her room, without invitation or permission, on her 400th anniversary - dropping the slight woman, tied up in ribbons as if Lena was supposed to gush and marvel at the catch. She hadn’t. And Lillian marched out of her room without any further fuss - only hours later did she realize that her Mother had tried to tame the wild woman, and failed, leaving Lena with her leftovers, albeit, untouched and of very high quality. 

Gourmet Garbage, in a sense. 

Her first taste had left her addicted. Like some common savage, she licked her lips with her tongue, dying them red - and poor Alex would have been a goner, had she not returned the aggression, biting Lena with all her might, and nearly taking off her pinky finger. It was enough to snap the young Vampire from her craze - regard the woman … creature, more carefully before deciding to keep her wrapped in ribbons and maybe grace her with a kiddie pool the next afternoon. 

Their turbulent relationship had grown into something more peaceful nowadays. Sharing a common disgust towards Lillian Luthor and her habit of roping her children - and Alex by association - into the crosshairs of international disputes, or domestic dangers. If anything, they’ve forged something of an understanding. Lena would always hold Alex close, to taunt Lillian for her only visible failure. And Alex would always orbit around Lena, similarly, to taunt Lillian whenever she crossed over what was not meant for her eyes and ears. 

What neither would admit or realize then, was how much they actually, quite simply, trusted one another, and no one else. 

Following a Blood Mage uprising in National City, many Vampires were suffering from having taken cursed blood, sabotaged and tampered with by the angry old mages. Lena who was already rich and powerful, hadn’t needed to panic or scramble to find an alternate source of food. Nonetheless, Alex had broken down her door - and the lamp - and told her, TOLD her, that she was not to touch anything that wasn’t passed along by Alex herself. 

The fucking nerve. 

Who, exactly, was the kidnapped helpless fish in their relationship again? And who was it that was an indestructible bullet capable of setting the fear of god into humans and mages alike? Lena had rolled her eyes, but found herself staring dead straight into angry browns when her little fish had caught her by her cheeks. 

“I may not have the privileged to live the life I dreamed of - hell, I don’t remember if I even have the right to dream. But it’s still a life. And you … you’re in it. It’s the only life I’ll know, and I won’t just watch it get snatched off by some really angry boomer cultist.”

“ … Is this where we have to bring you in to a psych and address your misplaced … devotion? ”

“Maybe so. But if I ever turn around, you’ll still be right there. Right?”

Understanding dawns, and finally - Lena hears the words that build that loose, vague, concept of ‘us’ between them. Like it or not, life as they knew it was to be seen by two sets of eyes, experienced by two hearts, and shared between two fiends who each spoke monster fluently. There was no one else she’d ever find who can learn to see and hear like they did. 

“But of course,” she promises before batting away her hands, nails threatening that pale column of neck displayed quite prettily for her. 

* * *

And so, her trembling ceases. With an unwavering resolve, she taps ‘N’ without a shred of doubt. Submitting her decision to whoever was behind the screen, whoever it was trying to make demands of her, reminding her a debt that, as far as she was concerned, never existed, nor involved her. 

A minute passes, then two. The next line remains blank, cursor blinking as if her dealer was taken aback, or perhaps speechless from her defiance? 

She’s just about gathered enough courage to maybe unleash some malicious software, cut to the chase, snap off a head or two and call it a day when the next lines come fast, furiously, fervently. 

_What’s mine is mine. And I want it now._  
_No._

_I NEED it now._  
_This is what I wa-_

**Beep.**

All too soon, her screen blanks. Every letter fades into nothingness, nothing responds. Frantically she looks down first, finding the charger pulled clear off, but what she finds next is what prompts her fiery anger: a boney little finger pressed against the power button - having forced the system to turn itself off. She follows the finger and arm up to glare at Alex, standing serenely, although every bit rebellious at the side of her desk. Alex, who has no idea what was going on, no clue what she had interrupted and yet acts as if Lena was the one who committed terror and wrong. 

“Why did you turn it off?!” She demands, hitting at the offending finger until it clears off of her keyboard. 

“Because we don’t have to listen to what they have to say.” 

“We?” Lena barks, sending an expression of disgust up to her companion, “this was in no way any of YOUR business, where do you get off telling me-”

“Didn’t you hear what they were saying?” Alex pushes Lena’s chair a tad - effectively stilling the Cold One’s tongue for a moment. “They were about to lay down a list of requirements from you. Did you really want to hear that? What they would do to you? What kind of lies and slander they’d pin you down for - what kind of lies they’ll try to feed and stick onto that rotting brain of yours.” 

“Still my decision to hear it,” Lena grumbles, and this time Alex doesn’t reply, the petulance in the vampire’s tone is more than enough of a signal for surrender, defeat. “Get out.” She tells Alex, firmly believing that she ought to have rights to having the last word. 

“Only if you promise not to read over those ransom-messages,” Alex dryly pins her with a look. “You might have enough allowance to just pay them and get them off your back - but history often teaches you not to appease and give into the wrong demands for good reason.” 

“I’m pretty sure I wrote a book on that, too. I’ve got a clear head, fish-brain, get out.” And only after Alex has left - after she can no longer hear her odd tempoed steps - a consequence of learning to walk late into her life - Lena lets out an unnecessary breath she had held back. Alex has no idea that she’s the price they’re asking for - and even better, she has no idea that Lena’s going to fight back with everything she has. Because something like that would send the wrong message. That she cares. 

Please. 

Lena just doesn’t want to spend another few centuries trying to find a nice, obedient little Juice Box when Alex is more than sufficient enough. That’s all.

* * *

It all goes up in flames. Because of course it does. 

Alex - never having really accepted that she was Lena’s prisoner - and only that - oversteps every boundary they ought to have. Despite having booted her out of her office, the redhead manages to watch from afar, behind mirrors and windows, watching as Lena does her best to track down the malicious individuals trying to stir trouble up in her abode. They both find the location at the same time, but somehow, Lena is a step behind and Alex is already prowling about on the streets.

No one gets away trying to uproot the thrice damned life she had - the one she managed to carve into something tolerable, enjoyable, even, on the occasion. When the vampire companion she decided to take as her own wasn’t being a complete ass about everything in life. Like trying to sell her off every once in a while, as if she needs to be reminded about how expendable she is - or when she’s trying to come off as aloof and disinterested whenever she’s feeding, suckling at Alex’s neck in the dark, more tongue than teeth caressing the open wound … and then telling her it tastes gross. 

Fucking asshole.

So naturally, she knew Lena would do things in the wrong order. Maybe accept the ransom note, set up a meeting place, and actually show up - empty handed, that is, like the dramatic vampire she is. Alex knows her well enough, and knows she ought to run interference least it spill over and attract the attention of all the wrong people. What she doesn’t expect was for Lena to have anticipated her disobedience. So yes, Lena accepts the ransom note, sets up a meeting place and time, and shows up empty handed - and decides to try out the Kidnapped Life for a spin. 

Forcing Alex to be the one to come crawling over to Lillian’s lair, stuttering and gritting through a Request for Assistance in front of all the other half-siblings Lena has, and Lex. Hngrh.

* * *

“I hope it hurts,” Alex growls, pulling as hard as she can, tightening the pristine white bandages as hard as she could. 

“This?!” Lena shouts, howling as Alex tugs unmercifully. “This is the thanks I get for trying to keep your ass from Mermaid-Trafficking?” 

“You’re not that noble!” Alex gapes, “I had to go to your mother! She was dining! The entire family was there,” she groans, clutching Lena’s torn sleeves. “Lex! Was there.” 

“You’re literally the family favorite,” Lena sneers. “Better you than me.” 

“I knew it! You pesky, stupid-”

Lillian tuts as she passes along the two of them, still roughing one another up on the dirt floor. “Still haven’t silenced that one, have you. It’s been what … 300 years now?” 

“As far as I’m concerned, the person who failed to do it themselves has no right to say that to me.” 

* * *

The large oak doors creak open. Lena turns her head, but doesn’t bother uncrossing her feet, nor does she lower them from the table - there’s no one in the empty dining hall to judge her or lecture her for it. And Alex, in her pajamas and ready to sleep than to fight, certainly wouldn’t say a word about it. As her Seaborn comes to a stop at her side, Lena turns away - stirring the small glass in her hand instead, watching as red taints each side. 

“Why were you there?” Alex asks, hand coming to pat her knee. 

Lena allows it. Graciously. Sipping the red liquid to stall for time.

“Better question,” Lena counters, “why weren’t you there?” 

Her small fingers begin to drum against her knee. This, she too allows. 

When it comes to a stop, she expects an answer. 

“After Paris,” Alex begins, “you said you didn’t need me. You’ve always been addicted. You’ve always teetered on the brink of keeping it all neat or losing it altogether. So I didn’t believe it myself,” she pauses, pulls up one of the chairs to sit next to Lena. “But you actually cut back. I keep track you know. Every time you cut me open, every time you keep some in the fridge or down in the cellar. You tell me these things, you never kept me from knowing where or what exactly you’re doing with my blood.” 

“I’m going on a diet,” Lena shrugs, too forcefully to be casual. “Tell me. Why weren’t you in the heart of things - waiting for me to come and clean it up like always, do you even-”

“You’re the one who said you didn’t want me anymore!” 

“... That’s not true.” 

“You said it yourself- Don’t touch me!”

“Stop squirming, fishstick.”

After some struggle, Alex ends up seated in Lena’s makeshift throne, with the vampire herself draped over her, all menacing. 

“I’m always going to want you, Alex. How could you doubt that?” Lena warns, sharp teeth flashing in a statement of their own. “Did you run the other way over something as stupid as that?”

“Run the other - I got back up for you!” 

“When have we ever needed it?! Newfoundland, Spain, Singapore, Paris, Sydney … you’re telling me you weren’t running the other way!?” 

“ … Let me go, I’m tired.” 

“Prisoners don’t get to make demands,” Lena scoffs, nipping at open skin now. 

Though Alex squirms and protests her status as ‘prisoner’ her arms eventually circle cold shoulders, and something between a mewl and a gurgle echoes in the hall. 

* * *

When the oak doors open once again - the intruder is met with a beastly growl and a gasp. There was nothing human about the pair anymore. Lena is taken over by a haze of hunger, of bloodlust. Her eyes are dyed a disfiguring red, her teeth are sunk deep and firm into soft, soft flesh. And most frightening of all, she is entirely unwilling to let even an inch go between their bodies - and digs her fingers into soft thighs to reinforce that point. She stares down the intruding scum, daring them to commit more wrong than what they’ve already done - interrupting her feeding. Interrupting her time with Alex. 

Wisely enough, they back away, closing the door as they go. 

With a scoff, Lena returns to her meal, and as per usual, though her teeth gnaw teasingly at every patch of unmarked skin, it’s more tongue than actual biting, or even suckling. Even the slightest drop of Seaborn Blood fills her up well enough to last for weeks. This? This was just dessert. 

She never gets too far away in her greed though, not when Alex returns a nip or two at her collarbones. 

She wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when Alex’s skin glimmers, and there’s suddenly something sharp, very, terribly sharp pressing down on her unfeeling skin. 

Lost in their bloodlust, they kiss. Just as they did every time. 

**Author's Note:**

> TL;DR: I forgot to do this with the other one today which explains some of the really, really weird posts I got? National City should not ever be in a crisis where Vampires hunt humans like common peasants. They had to for a while because Old Blood Mages were fucking with the rations. Since Lena feeds off Alex it's suspicious that she's just as well off - and then they realize What A Catch Alex is and stages a whole ransom note to Lena. Despite Alex's best effort to Dissuade her, Lena ends up being the hostage thinking Alex would go in guns glazing ... and yeah. All's well ends well. 
> 
> They get dirty in the dining hall. In the biggest fuck off chair ever. A throne, if you will.


End file.
